


Unfinished Business

by Weldarion



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Emotional Baggage, Gen, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29553054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weldarion/pseuds/Weldarion
Summary: Weldarion Amara, one of the Warriors of Light, is attacked and then meets an old ally with a lead to some unfinished business.Set in post-Shadowbringers content.
Kudos: 1





	Unfinished Business

Weldarion had often scoffed at the idea of meditation in his youth, but the older he got, the more value it seemed to hold. His experiences as a Warrior of Light the past few years had taken its toll on his mental health, battle after battle wearing him down, and he had eventually realised he needed to occasionally find some time to reflect. To center himself anew. Sometimes all he had were moments before a battle, where he shut his eyes and focused, other times he could actually find time to locate a place of solitude.

Such had been today, while others held meetings and discussed in the back rooms of the Rising Stones, he had absconded to one of the high balconies of Revenant’s Toll. He sat with his eyes closed, legs crossed, feeling the slight chill of the aether-filled wind upon his naked torso, organising the thoughts flowing through his head like colourful ribbons of memories and ideas.

While recent events took up a large part of his mindscape, he could not help but reflect on the past as well. Mistakes, hardships… losses. There were plenty of events even before he had become an adventurer, and then a Warrior of Light, where he found regret and sorrow. They were things he would not share with anyone. Not because he thought they would not understand, rather because they would. They all carried scars from their pasts, some more than others, and he wanted to hold them up, not bring them down.

He sighed, shifting his weight ever so slightly, and took a deep breath. These were the moments he allowed himself vulnerability, letting his facade drop and be his true self. Small, terrified, and helpless. He did it so he could be unwavering and strong at all other times. Be the shield of Eorzea.

Something cut into his shoulder with terrible speed and force, knocking him onto the stone floor of the balcony. The pain winded him for a moment, knocking him out of his reverie, unable to do anything but hiss breath through his clenched teeth. He stayed face down as he tried to recover his mental and physical strength, eyes closed, listening.

There was a slight disturbance in the air, not a sound exactly, more of a feeling as it parted for an object at high speed. With reflexes honed over years of training in several disciplines, he rolled to the side just as the object was about to hit him. Instead it bounded off the stone, throwing tiny chips into the air. A metallic sound. Before thinking further, he pulled the sword from its sheath on the ground next to his armour, and deflected a third projectile.

The first one had hit his right shoulder, his sword arm, and was hindering his muscles from moving as they should without immense agony shooting through his nerves. Fortunately, he was proficient enough with either arm. Another projectile, and another deflection. Kunais, a ninja weapon. He would not be able to trust his eyes to find his attacker, and instead continued to listen. It was barely audible, but he heard footsteps. Soft and light, but they were there. Above him, to his right, but moving left on the battlement. He waited until he suspected they were out in the open, readying another strike, and then dropped to one knee. The kunai glanced off his bare back, but he ignored the sudden pain, releasing the grip of his sword and grasped his shield, swinging around as he stood back up, gathering momentum, then lobbing the shield right at where he estimated his attacker was located.

There was a satisfying sound as the shield hit home, knocking his assailant to the ground, however, more importantly making them visible to the naked eye. As the shield rebounded back towards Weldarion, he focused his mind on one of the many crystals he carried, and with a flash of light, his armour, shield, and sword were gone, replaced by his Machinist gear. The comfortable weight of his jacket and hat settled onto his shoulders and head respectively, and he pulled the revolver from its holster, firing a gauss round at the ninja on the battlement above him. They were just recovering from his shield lob, and had no time to avoid his shot.

As the round hit them straight in the chest, they were knocked back onto the ground, this time not getting up again. Blowing a whistle, Weldarion climbed onto Phattie’s back, floating up the battlement. As he did, he pulled the kunai from his back. It had sunk deeper as the crystal switched his gear, and it hurt something fierce, but he got it out. He glanced at it for a moment, before returning his attention to the ninja. Now that they were visible, and right in front of him, he could make out some of their features. A hyur woman clad in black with a hood, a belt full of kunais and two larger daggers.

“I seem to have failed to arrive on time,” a male voice said from Weldarion’s left, and he looked over. A tall, dark skinned hyur wearing traditional Ala Mhigan garb stood on the balcony he had just departed. He was apparently unarmed, though Weldarion knew that to be completely untrue.

“One of yours, Eyvind?” Weldarion asked, nodding to the unconscious ninja.

“Unfortunately,” Eyvind replied, shaking his head, and jumped from the balcony, grabbing the outcrops on the wall, climbing his way to the battlement at high speed. Weldarion jumped off Phattie, meeting the other man by the assailant.

“Then how come she thought to assassinate me?” Weldarion asked, putting his revolver away, and knelt next to the woman. She would have some nice bruises, but nothing seemed to be broken. “I figured you to have joined the resistance and the new government.”

“Indeed I have, though not all my fellows elected to join me,” Eyvind said, his accent a perfect affectation of midland eorzean, rather than rough northern that was natural to him. He had been the head of the Gyr Abanian scouting troop since their homeland had been occupied by the Empire. They had been tasked by the Eorzean Alliance to keep an eye on the goings on in their former homeland, and had spent the better part of twenty years doing so.

“Deserters? I didn’t think the Oculusbanes had such things,” Weldarion said, looking up at his former superior. “I seem to remember them as the most diehard of the foreign resistance, bordering on zealotry.”

“You never were much for the more extreme measures,” Eyvind said, shaking his head, and looked down at the unconscious woman with clear disapproval in his eyes. “Some were clearly too blinded by their hatred to see victory for what it was. Especially when it was not by their own hand.”

“They resent me for my hand in freeing our home?” Weldarion asked, baffled. He had known some of the Oculusbanes were… unstable at best, but this really was something else.

“They have even gone so far as joining up with traitors and collaborators,” Eyvind said, and his eyes met Weldarion’s.

“Shade,” Weldarion growled, his eyes becoming cold, and his expression hard. Eyvind was reminded of the young man he had recruited all those years ago; full of hatred and vengeance. “I’d hoped he died during the battle for the city. He lives?”

“Indeed, and he is recruiting for the cause.”

“What cause?”

“The re-occupation of Ala Mhigo by Garlemald,” Eyvind said, and Weldarion barked a harsh laugh.

“He can’t actually believe in such a foolish thing?”

“Oh, I very much doubt he does, but lambs for the slaughter and such, you know?”

“He deserves death,” Weldarion said softly, then shook his head. “You’ve got a location?”

“No, however I think she does,” Eyvind said, nodding to the woman on the ground. “I am sure our combined efforts can have her reveal what she knows.”

The Echo was a godsend. Literally. Eyvind had not had to use his more… questionable methods of information extractions, as the Echo had revealed enough for them to go on to locate the hideout of the former Oculusbanes and their collaborator allies. Hiding somewhere in the Peaks might not really have been much to most people, but both Weldarion and Eyvind were very familiar with the region, and there were few places remote enough to hold a sizable group without detection. Couple that information with a few targeted questions for the locals, and they had a very small area to search.

“Some may consider flying to be foul play,” Eyvind said from the ground through the linkpearl as Weldarion soared the skies on Phattie’s back.

“I can’t say that playing fair when it comes to monsters and bad guys ever occurred to me,” Weldarion replied, scanning the ground beneath him for signs of activity. “Besides, it’s not like I’m alone in being able to fly.”

“Most do not have you and your fellow adventurer’s resources,” Eyvind countered, but laughed. “Had I access to such marvels, my work would be much easier.”

“I’ll have a talk with Cid,” Weldarion said, smirking slightly, then frowned. He had seen something moving on the ground. “Hang on, I might have something.” As he flew over the ancient rock quarry known as the Sleeping Stones, he spotted a lone figure walking across the ground. Pulling out his looking glass and focusing on the figure, he could now make them out to be a male hyur, definitely highlander, wearing a modified garlean uniform. Now that he knew to look he could see that several of the shaped slabs of rock in the quarry were actually cleverly disguised tents. “Found them.”

“So, a distraction then?” Weldarion asked, looking out over the encampment from an outcrop in the mountains nearby, next to an ancient roadway. They had been observing for a few hours, and had picked out a slightly larger tent towards the back of the southernmost part of the quarry to be Shade’s tent. They had spotted several of his band of miscreants entering and leaving there, but none of the other people in the camp went near it.

“It looks like a fog is settling, we can use that,” Eyvind said, glancing to the north, where a haze was building. “Are you certain about this course? Last time you confronted Shade he beat you half to death.”

“I am on a whole other level now,” Weldarion said calmly, inspecting the camp. While some were definitely traitors or worse, many of the people below were just misguided, taken in by a lapse in judgement and Shade’s charisma. “No reason to involve the whole camp; just the inner circle and Shade. I can handle them.”

“Very well,” Eyvind said, eyeing his former subordinate. He had worried that Weldarion had never been able to properly let go of his experiences in the Oculusbanes, to live a life free of the weight of his past, but watching him now, all he could see was… well, the Warrior of Light. His confidence and strength radiated from him almost like literal light. If all the Warriors of Light were like this, Eyvind could see why so many followed them and held them up to almost mythical status. A voice spoke in his ear, and he looked over at Weldarion. “Distraction is ready.”

“Well, no use waiting,” Weldarion said, and mounted up on Phattie’s back. “Give the word when you’re ready.”

A loud explosion sounded, shining brightly through the fog, and everyone in the camp rushed to find out what was happening. More explosions, all on the road leading to the camp. Grabbing their weapons, they advanced on the road cautiously, just as a hail of smoke bombs came raining down, worsening the already poor visibility throughout the camp.

“What in the Seven Hells is happening?!” a deep voice shouted, and a massive mountain of a man exited the large tent Weldarion and Eyvind had been watching. Smiling, Weldarion maneuvered Phattie close to the tent, and jumped off. He landed silently on the ground, rolling to distribute his weight and cushioning the impact, coming up with his sword and shield out.

“You’ve got a visitor,” he called out to the massive man, who immediately snapped his head in Weldarion’s direction. Stepping through one of the billowing clouds caused by the smoke bombs, he came face to face with Shade. “Hello there.”

“You look like one of them Warriors of Light,” Shade sneered, and flexed his fingers, adjusting the grip on the spiked knuckles he was holding. “Always wanted to beat one of you down to size.”

“Happy to oblige,” Weldarion said, and rushed Shade. He tossed his shield at the bigger man, caught it on the rebound, and swung his sword in a flurry of blows. Shade expertly parried and dodged his attacks, but Weldarion could tell he did it with massive effort. Weldarion was just getting started.

“Get him!” Shade shouted, and suddenly Weldarion was surrounded by half a dozen heavily armed figures; Shade’s inner circle. As the massive man stepped back, his underlings advanced on Weldarion.

Three of them came at him at the same time, and he threw down a Sheltron, a segmented metal wall, which their weapons bounced off, and he spun around with his blade out in a circular move, causing all six to step back from him. Combo after combo he advanced on them one by one. He was faster, stronger, and tougher than all of them. Years ago they would have turned him into minced meat within the first few seconds, but he was not that young hotheaded boy anymore. Conflict after conflict, battle after battle, he had grown ever stronger, more experienced. Blows bounced off his shield and armour, but none reached his flesh.

It was like an adult playing with a child, but without the pretense. He kicked one of them in the chest, and they soared through the air, hitting one of the granite walls of the quarry. They fell to the ground, unmoving. Another two came at him, and he swung his sword at them, breaking theirs at the hilt, then smashed one in the head with his shield, while headbutting the other. Both crumpled to the ground. The three remaining advanced on him in unison. He raised his sword into the air, calling down lightning. It hit the tip of his sword, travelling down his body, and out to the three attackers. With the speed of thought he cast a Holy Circle, the flash of light blinding them, and then he rushed them. He swept the legs out from one, and knocked him out with a gauntleted fist, then spun around, knocking the lance coming at him aside.

Two remained, and he was not about to stop. Going in low, he feinted to the side, driving the pommel of his sword into the back of the head of the lancer. As he was going for the last one, he sensed movement behind him, and he rolled to the side, just as the massive metal-clad fist of Shade came down where he had stood. The impact left cracks in the mountainous ground, and while Weldarion seemed distracted by their boss, the last henchman attacked, their large war axe coming in from the side at terrific speed. This was not Weldarion’s first encounter with such a maneuver, however, and he blocked it with his shield, his feet sliding a few films from the impact. When his attack did not seem to have the desired effect, the attacker readied for another swing, but Weldarion was already inside his guard, using the flat of his shield to smash the man’s face in. He fell to the ground, nose broken, and Weldarion kicked him onto his side, lest he drown in his own blood.

“You swivin’ bastard, what have you done?!” Shade exclaimed, rushing Weldarion. There was no finesse to his moves, only rage, and Weldarion had no choice but to put up his shield and brace. Shade hit him straight on, lifting his feet from the ground, and he spun through the air. He landed hard, but immediately got up again. “Not so tough now, are you!”

“You’ve not seen anything yet,” Weldarion said darkly, and focused on one of his crystals. A flash of light, and the confident expression on Shade’s face wavered. Weldarion pulled the greatsword from his back, and levelled it at the other man. He let the feelings of anger, hate, and sorrow for what this man had done flow up to the surface, grasping them tightly, letting them fuel him. The air around Weldarion seemed to pulse with visible emotion, and Shade took a few halting steps back.

“Why… why are you here?!” he asked, his expression still waveringly confident, but Weldarion could sense the fear wafting off him like an unwashed hound.

“You killed my brothers and sisters,” Weldarion said coolly, he did not let the hurricane of emotions whirling around inside touch his voice. He started walking towards Shade, who kept backing up, his expression revealing more and more of his fear.

“I give up!” Shade finally said, letting his metal knuckles fall to the ground, and holding his arms out to the side. He smirked. “You’re a Warrior of Light, yeah? I surrender; take me in.”

“No,” Weldarion said, continuing his march forward. Shade’s face surrendered to his fear, and he snarled like a caged beast.

“You let that whore Fordola live, but I’m damned?!” he spat, his bulging muscles tensing, and Weldarion could tell he was ready for one last spurt of defiance in the face of death.

“She could be redeemed,” Weldarion said softly, taking one last step, leaving a few yalms between him and Shade. Fordola had done what she had for Ala Mhigo, however misguided she had been, she had done it for love of country and its people. Shade did what he did for the love of slaughter, mayhem, and his own personal pleasures. “You cannot.”

There were no more words then. Shade uncoiled like a spring, and leapt at Weldarion, who was ready for it. He lifted his dark sword, and angled it.

“Weldarion, can you hear me?” Eyvind’s voice came through the linkpearl.

“Yes, I can,” Weldarion replied, and scratched Phattie between the ears, to which he gave an appreciative meow.

“We have managed to round up everyone,” Eyvind said, then paused for a moment before continuing. “We cannot find Shade anywhere. Did he escape?”

“He didn’t escape,” Weldarion replied quietly, closing his eyes. “He’s not a threat anymore.”

Silence.

“I see,” Eyvind said, his voice also quiet. “Where did you go?”

“I’m heading back to Revenant’s Toll,” Weldarion said, opening his eyes again, looking down at the landscape going by beneath him. There was more silence. Not a whole lot more to say after that, they both knew.

“I wish you the best,” Eyvind said eventually, a strained smile in his voice.

“You as well,” Weldarion said, and the connection went quiet. He lifted his gaze, looking to the horizon, enjoying the air on his face. Something heavy had lifted from somewhere deep in his chest, from a place with memories and emotions from long ago. Something else had settled in its place, something more recent.

But he could live with that.


End file.
